


christmas is just a side-effect of consumerist culture

by hummingbirdbandit



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha Dave throwing money around, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Eridan makes a brief appearance as his usual douchey hipster self, I don't know how to write anything that isn't angst, KTS Secret Sufferer 2018, M/M, Secret Sufferer, how many terrible pet names can Dave give Karkat: the movie, i wrote this and i don't even know, inaccurate depictions of Christmastime in Houston, is Karkat a troll or a human? you decide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 20:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16940427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingbirdbandit/pseuds/hummingbirdbandit
Summary: Christmas DaveKat shenanigans for KTS.  Merry Christmas and Happy Secret Sufferer, Sharky!





	christmas is just a side-effect of consumerist culture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jellyfishmurderer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyfishmurderer/gifts).



> I have never had so much fun coming up with elaborate pet names. I should write AlphaDave more often.

Dave is sick and tired of Karkat pushing himself until he’s dying.  

He loves the guy, don’t get him wrong.  But Karkat has this habit of… not sleeping.  Or eating. Or doing much of anything, for that matter, when he gets stressed.  And boy is he fucking stressed. With a deadline for his editor coming up in just a few weeks (who the shitting fuck gives a writer a deadline a week before Christmas?  Sadists, the lot of them), Karkat has been on a warpath of coffee, profanity, and sleepless nights. And Dave is done watching him self-destruct. 

“What’s up my cherry-flavored love monkey?” Dave asks, sliding into Karkat’s office, the only respectably decorated room in their penthouse apartment.  “Working hard or hardly workin, am I right?” Karkat looks up from his laptop, where his cursor blinks at him accusingly from a blank page. His eyes are angry and dark from a lack of sleep, and his hands shake from the frankly ridiculous amount of caffeine he’s imbibed in the last two hours. “Dave.  What are you doing in my office, and how many times do I have to tell you that when the door is closed, I’m working?”  

Dave gives him a disapproving look.  “That’s some horror movie shit. ‘All work and no play,’ and all.  Come on, KK, you’ve been in here for six hours. Haven’t even taken a piss, and I know this because I spent at least two hours on the toilet playing Candy Crush.  You gotta take a break or you’re gonna pass out in here, and you’re way too heavy for me to carry since you started getting jacked at the gym.” A dastardly glint shines in Dave’s eyes.  “Besides, I made us plans, and it cost me like six grand, so we’re going out. You don’t like wasting my hard-earned money.”

Karkat scowls, with none of the usual affection behind it.  “Dave, if I don’t get this draft finished by the twentieth, I’m going to lose my job.  Do you understand what I’m saying? I have roughly six days to drag my blithering bulge-sucking ass out of this slump and into the land of prose and creation or I’m done and my novel never sees the light of day.  Do you know how hard it is to finish twenty thousand words in six days, Dave? That’s over three thousand words a day, which may not seem a lot to a man who says three times that an hour, but let me tell you, it’s exhausting.  I don’t have time to waste on your bullshit distractions.” Dave sighs.  “Karkat, my sweet insult-engine, either we’re going out or I’ll call Zahhak down here to drag you out, and I really don’t wanna do that cuz the guy kinda scares me.  Your choice.” Karkat glares at him, looking for any weakness he can exploit to get Dave to back off and finding none. He huffs. “You know what?  Fine, if it’ll get you off my back.  Where are you dragging me off too? What could you have possibly planned that cost that much fucking money?  Actually, no, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’ll get my coat.” He shoves past Dave on his way out, and Dave trails after him, watching his husband with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his lips.

* * *

It’s unreasonably cold for a Texas winter, sitting at roughly thirty-five degrees at midday.  Folks wander by bundled up like swaddled infants in the manger or some sappy religious shit like that.  Dave never did pay attention in Sunday school. Folks turn their heads and stare as the two of them walk down the street, Karkat looking enraged in a modest black peacoat and Dave in an obnoxious [ coat ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7d/d4/4c/7dd44ce41be975e1fc24960216f698e4.jpg) straight out of an eighties teeny bopper MTV special.  Dave is used to people staring - it’s not like he knows the meaning of the word ‘modest,’ after all - but in Karkat’s current mood, Dave has the passing thought that maybe he should have left the garish wardrobe at home.  

“Where the fuck are we even going, Dave?” Karkat asks loudly.  Everything he does is loud. He’s like a yappy dog, always barking but too small to bite.  Dave values his life too much to ever voice that particular sentiment.

“What part of ‘it’s a surprise, babe,’ don’t you understand?” Dave says, guiding Karkat down yet another crowded street and into a nearby Starbucks.  “Alright, first stop - fancy coffee.” Karkat raises one eyebrow, a mountain of annoyance rising towards his hairline. Dave steps up to the counter before he can protest.  “Two grande peppermint mochas, please,” he asks, slapping a hundred dollar bill onto the counter. The barista blinks at him in surprise.

“Dave, you’re lactose intolerant,” Karkat says.

“I have accepted my own mortality,” Dave rebuffs as the barista reboots and takes the cash.  He tucks all eighty dollars of change into the tip jar and takes a seat. Karkat sighs, exasperated, and sits beside him in one of the plush chairs that line the coffee shop.

“Okay, come on.  Spill, jackass. I came with you, I at least deserve to know what the fuck you think you’re doing,” Karkat finally says as the silence stretches between them.  He tries and fails to keep his voice low, and the patrons shoot the two of them strange looks from behind their laptops. A guy in the corner with an electric typewriter scoffs and runs a hand through his shock of purple hair before getting back to work.

Dave steeples his fingers, grinning like a man about to drop some mad beats.  “You see, my curly-haired shout-cannon, you are far too keyed up. It’s the Christmas season, the time for spending exorbitant amounts of money on things we don’t need for people we don’t like, and instead of going out and being exploited by our need for instant gratification, you are spending hours locked in your office trying and failing to be productive.  So I have planned a day of events and tasks we must complete to give you the full Christmas experience, and you are being held hostage by your inability to allow me to waste money and your secret desire to make me happy even when you want to strangle me in a Starbucks.” He smiles, clearly pleased with himself.

Karkat does not smile back. “

Dave.  I know that you have absolutely no concept of what it is like to have to work for a living, having ever-so-lovingly been handed billions of dollars for something you created in an afternoon in Windows Media Maker, but if I don’t get this draft finished by Sunday, I will lose my chance to ever have my own dreams actualized.  I don’t have time to be paraded around like a fucking show-pony to satisfy your deranged desire to force me to participate in a holiday I care nothing about.”

Some of Dave’s enthusiasm peters out, and his smile falters a bit.  The bravado he was wielding disappears and he becomes uncomfortably sincere.  “Karkat, you’ve not gotten a lick of work done in the past three days, and I hate seeing you like this.  I thought taking a break and getting you a change of scenery might help you find some inspiration so you can get your work done.”  He runs a hand through his hair nervously. “I just want to see you relax a bit, and I figured what better way to do it than going and doing stupid shit for kids.  Please just humor me for a bit? A few hours, and we can go home and I’ll leave you alone to work. I’ll even throw in a back massage and a bubble bath.”

Karkat’s angry glare softens for the first time in three days.  He sighs, and puts his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a brainless shrieking assclown these past few days.  I know you’re just trying to help, and I’m sorry for chewing you out. I just… I have to do this, Dave. It’s been so stressful getting to this point, and if I let this chance slip from between my fingers, I’ll never get it back.”  When he looks up, his gaze is apologetic. “I’ll do your stupid Christmas bullshit. Who knows. Maybe it really will help. It’s not like I was getting anything done by staring at my computer and reflecting on every failure I’ve had in my miserable existence.”

Dave smiles, bright as a lighthouse.  “You won’t regret this, babe.”

* * *

What follows is a whirlwind of activity.  Building a snowman at Discovery Green. Skating on Lake Houston.  Nearly getting arrested on Lake Houston. Throwing snowballs at passersby and running away.  Going to see a mall Santa (Karkat would not sit on the lap, so Dave took his place happily). With every event, Dave gets more desperate as Karkat’s annoyance grows and grows.   “Dave, everything we’ve done today has been brain-meltingly frustrating.  I don’t understand the appeal, and I’m sorry, but I’ve tried to relax and enjoy myself and instead I feel like I’m going to get an ulcer from all of the ridiculous shit you’ve dragged me through today!  Can we please just go home?”

Dave winces at Karkat’s words.  “Yeah, okay. Maybe this was… a bad idea.  I was just hoping that getting you out and about would make you… I dunno, relax a little?”  Karkat opens his mouth to argue and Dave shakes his head. “No, seriously, KK, you don’t have to say anything.  We can go home. There was only one thing left, anyway.” “What was it?” Karkat asks after a second of silence.  His face is twisted with guilt. Dave’s heart drops into his stomach at the sight.  He didn’t want this. Didn’t want to make Karkat so upset. 

“Nothing.  Just something to wind down.  I planned dinner was all. We don’t have to go.”

Karkat lets out a long, weary sigh, unable to meet Dave’s eyes.  “Okay. Let’s go.” “Excuse me?”

“I said let’s go.”  Karkat fixes Dave with a stare that could melt steel.  “You’ve done all this shit to try to get me to stop being an uptight asshole, and instead of being grateful, I’ve been... well, an uptight asshole.  So let’s go to dinner, and I’ll do my best to enjoy it instead of acting like a spastic dickweed.” Dave’s face lights up.  “Alright. Alright! Cool.  You gotta close your eyes on the way, though, got it?  It’s a surprise.” 

Karkat rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling this time.  “Fine.”

The ride is a pleasant one - as pleasant as it can be with Karkat complaining loudly that he cannot see and Dave giggling like a madman every few minutes.  The cab pulls to a stop, and Dave helps Karkat out onto the street. “Alright. You can look.”

Karkat opens his eyes and his brow furrows in confusion.  “A garden? Dave, it’s the middle of winter. It _snowed_ this year.  There’s not going to be any flowers, and it’s too cold to eat outside.”  

“That’s why we’re not eating outside.  Just trust me. This was the hardest thing to plan today.  And the most expensive.” Dave takes Karkat’s hand and leads him down a few winding paths, past snow-covered palms and icy benches to the closed door of a greenhouse.  “Here. Let me just…” He fumbles with the keys, dropping them in the snow and digging around for them for ten minutes while spouting profanities. When he finally gets the door open, Karkat steps inside, and gasps.

The greenhouse is small - nothing but two rows of the most delicate tropical flowers, to protect them from the winter cold.  White Amazon lilies share space with hibiscus and lotuses .  The thick fragrance of encylias permeates the air, and in the corner a Brazilian red cloak bush towers overhead.  The entire interior is strung with Christmas lights, and a picnic blanket lays across the ground, topped with the biggest picnic basket Karkat has ever seen.  

“Dave…” Karkat breathes, unable to find any more words than that.  Dave laughs a little and runs a hand through his hair. 

“I, uh.  Wanted to get you flowers but everything is out of season.  This was the next best thing from having them flown in from Ecuador or something, and I don’t speak Spanish, and all those florist websites are in Spanish and they want proof I’m not a cop, and like, how do you prove you’re not a cop?  So I tried to tell them that it was for my husband but they called me some mean name that I didn’t need to know Spanish to understand and hung up on me, so I decided to try closer to home.” Dave opens his mouth to continue rambling, and Karkat shuts him up with a kiss.  

“Oh my god stop talking, the food is gonna get cold.  I love it.” He smiles, and pulls Dave in for a hug. “I love _you._  You didn’t have to do all this for me, but you did it anyway.  Thank you. I had a good time, even if I was trying really hard not to.” 

Dave laughs.  “I knew you would!  You just gotta get out of your head sometimes.  If it’s as loud as your mouth, you gotta be going deaf.”

Karkat punches him. “Fair,” Dave says.  “Do you wanna eat?”

Karkat nods.  “Yeah. I do.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Flowers:  
> Amazon Lily [ https://pics.davesgarden.com/pics/2003/06/08/IslandJim/aa56f0.jpg ](link)  
> Hibiscus [ https://laidbackgardener.files.wordpress.com/2017/01/20170113f.jpg ](link)  
> Lotus [ http://mythologian.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/lotus-flower-meaning-symbolism.jpg ](link)  
> Encylia [ https://www.sloorchids.com/images/Encyclia%20Chien%20Ya%20Smile.JPG ](link)  
> Brazilian red cloak [ https://garden.org/pics/2012-01-11/Dutchlady1/8a29a4.jpg ](link)


End file.
